


May I Braid It?

by ourdreamsrealized



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Comedy, Drama, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Family Drama, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Lemon, Love, Love at First Sight, Making Love, Making Out, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mentions of Character Death, Nudity, Oral Sex, Romance, Romantic Drama, Sex, Size Difference, Smut, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdreamsrealized/pseuds/ourdreamsrealized
Summary: Fili knew from the moment he set eyes on you that you were his One, but there is just one problem. You are the elfen princess of Mirkwood, and your father is none other than King Thranduil.





	1. May I Braid It?

**Author's Note:**

> Ada = Sindarin for “father” or “daddy”  
> khebabmudtu = Khuzdul for “heart-forge” or “the forge where my heart is made”  
> Amrâlimê = Khuzdul for “love-of-me”  
> guren vel = Sindarin for “my sweetheart"

Your father was a…cautious man. It was the nicest way you could put it, considering he did not let you leave Mirkwood, and if you were to leave the castle, you had to be accompanied by a barrier of royal guards.

You did not blame your father for his paranoia. 

He had lost the love of his life, your mother, and you were the spitting image of her. If you were taken from him in death or in life, he would be in another world of heartbreak. 

So you did as he asked and stayed by his side while your elder brother began to pursue his own destiny, one that he made for himself. He was not home often, out in Mirkwood forest patrolling and gallivanting with Tauriel, and you would be lying if you claimed you were not jealous of the two of them.

The outside world intrigued you, but you would remain here. Besides, Mirkwood had a lot to offer a growing girl. You had many elfen friends and read many elfen books. You were tutored in the art of healing by elves, and you spent your mealtimes with your father, the king of the Mirkwood Elves. You were surrounded by your own kind, safe, and well-bred. You were a princess and the daughter your father wanted you to be.

So why were you doing this?

You were deliberately going against your father’s orders by coming here. 

He had specifically said, “You are not to go to the dungeons, and you are not to associate with the dwarves.”

Dwarves. Not elves.

You had read about dwarves in books written by your kind, and they were not often portrayed in a positive light. They were viewed as lower than the elves, dirty and hairy, but you assumed that such writings were biased because you knew of the history between your kind and theirs.

What you were doing was out of curiosity, an experiment, if you will.

What was wrong with that?  _Ada_  had always encouraged your love of knowledge.

You tried to comfort yourself with this fact as you descended the stairs to the dungeons. You pressed yourself against the stone wall, scoping out the place before deciding on which dwarf you would bother. 

From where you were standing, you could see an older dwarf with black hair. He was pacing back and forth behind the bars of his cell much like a caged animal ready to pounce on anything that so much as looked at him wrong. The cell next to his was filled with three dwarves who all seemed to be asleep, and next to them, you saw a dwarf sitting with his side against the bars. You could not tell if he was sleeping or not, but he had the friendliest face and seemed to be the closest to you in age.

With a smile on your face, you made your presence known, stepping from the shadows.

“Princess!" 

Both elves immediately gave you their attention, but theirs were not the only pairs of eyes on you; your title had captured the interest of most of your dwarfen prisoners.

"Have you not heard?” you pretended to be surprised. “My father asked me to speak with the prisoners on his behalf, and he asked me to relieve you of your duties.”

The guards looked at each other before giving you a smile, “Thank you for making us aware, Princess.”

“You are welcome,” you bowed your head.

And just like that you got rid of the guards.

“Lass!”

You looked over at the owner of the voice, finding it to be the angry, older dwarf. When he saw he had your gaze, he continued, “I did not know Thranduil had a daughter.”

You were a bit shocked by the fact he had referred to your father by name, but maybe they knew each other personally.

You nodded, “I am his daughter, Y/N.”

“You do not resemble him.”

“No,” you looked down. “I am told I resemble the late queen more than the king.”

Your melancholy expression seemed to have made the dwarf uncomfortable, but it did not stop him from acting rather harsh towards you.

“So what is it you want? To laugh at us? What message does your king bring us?” he spat.

“I mean you no harm, and my being my father’s messenger was a lie,” you explained quickly. “I am here simply out of curiosity.”

The dwarf harrumphed, turning away from you, “I have nothing to say to you, Princess.”

The way he said your title made it sound like an insult, but you did not take his hostility to heart. It was clear that he was bitter about something, and it was probably more than you could dare try to mend.

“Oi! Your Highness!”

You turned, meeting the green eyes of the friendly-looking dwarf. He stood now, behind his bars, with the brightest of smiles on his face.

Feeling like this dwarf would be more open to you, you walked over to him, giving him a small, bashful grin because, to be frank, he was quite handsome, “I am Y/N, Master Dwarf. Please do not call me by formal titles.”

His expression brightened further at your words, “As you wish, Y/N. My name is Fili, and the grumpy dwarf you were just talking to is my uncle Thorin.”

“Thorin?” your eyes widened, and you brought your hands to your mouth to suppress your gasp. “No wonder he is in such a foul mood!”

“You know of him?”

You nodded, “I have read books about him. Granted, the authors were not writing about him kindly.”

Fili nodded his head, “I understand, but what is a beautiful elfen princess doing down here in the dungeons?”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment, and you tried to hide it by averting your gaze, “Interest, I suppose.”

“Interest?" 

"I do not know much about the other races, and yours has fascinated me since I was a little girl. I never thought I would get the chance to meet a dwarf.”

“Well, you are now in the presence of one, so what would you like to know,  _khebabmudtu_?” he gave you a smirk that made you feel things you had never felt before.

“Oh, I don’t know. Everything!”

He threw his head back in laughter, his blonde mustache braids dancing as he shook in amusement, “Everything, Lass? Well, maybe we should start with our courting rituals…”

He winked at you with his suggestion, and you found yourself pressing your hands to your face, willing the blush to go away.

He just burst into another fit of laughter.

* * *

You had been visiting Fili for a couple of days now, and you enjoyed his company more than any elf’s. He intrigued you in ways you had never been before, and he quenched your thirst for knowledge at the same time; he did something to you that books could never do.

Currently, he was braiding your hair, his thick fingers combing through a section of your locks with gentle movements.

He had asked you the night before for your permission to do so. 

“I have never seen such hair,” he had grinned at you, touching the ends of it with his calluses. “It is so soft." 

That was something else that drew you to the blond dwarf; he complimented you. No elf–no being–ever had, and while you would have liked to blame it on your father’s intimidating power, a small part of you whispered that you were not attractive.

"May I braid it?”

You had blushed at his sudden question, looking down at your feet, “Y-you want to?”

He had nodded, “I would love to.”

You met his green gaze, “Then you may.”

He had beamed at your answer, sending your heart into a series of somersaults.

Even now, your heart would not stop; it never did in his presence.

“Shall I tell you of our courting rituals?”

The first time he had asked you that, the first day, you realized he only did so in jest. He did not mean to tell you of such things, but, now, he was bringing it up again.

Slowly, careful of his work, you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him. His face was concentrated, his eyes glued to the movement of his hands.

“If you wish,” you had answered, smiling to yourself as you faced forward.

“First, to express our interest, we shower the dwarrodwam of our affections with handmade gifts. If she accepts these gifts, she is stating that she shares our interest. For example, if I gave you my dagger, which I made prior to this quest, and you took it, you would be accepting my love for you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. Why was he using the two of you as an example?

“Then, I would ask to braid your hair.”

You could hear your heart screaming from your chest. Did he not understand what he was implying?

“And when I finished, I would place one of my beads at the end to keep it in place,” he let go of your hair, and you turned to look at him. You were shocked to find one of the silver beads that held his braids in place was in between his thumb and pointer finger.

“I will not put it in your hair,  _khebabmudtu_ , unless you so wish it.”

You looked from the bead to his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them, and you began to nod.

A grin broke the stern expression on his face as he carefully took your braid in his hand and slipped the silver trinket onto it. 

With the bound in place, his gaze found yours, and his hand moved from your locks to cup your cheek, “ _Amrâlimê_ …”

You leaned closer to him, for he could move no farther; the bars were separating him from you. You let your eyes fall closed, and you did not realize how much you wanted the dwarf until you were in this moment. You craved his lips and his touch with every breath you took.

“Y/N!”

Your father’s roar made your eyes shoot open. Fili was already looking behind you, his stare fixed on the man who had imprisoned him and his kin here. 

“How dare you disobey me!”

You had never heard your father as angry as he had been presently, and, although you never were given a reason to fear him before, you found yourself crawling back towards Fili, your hand grasping his as he brought his other arm from the bars to rest on your waist.

“It will be fine,  _Amrâlimê_ …”

“Get away from him, Y/N! He is a dwarf and unworthy of your presence.”

The Mirkwood King made his way over to you, grabbing your arm farthest away from Fili and pulling you up with a grip that made you wince.

“ _Ada_! You are hurting me!" 

Fili jumped to his feet at your exclamation, throwing himself against his cell, "Don’t you dare hurt her!”

As if your skin had scorched his hand, your father let go of you, his face softening some. You could tell that he did not mean you any harm, but you still were angry with him. He had no right to speak to Fili in such a way.

“I am only trying to protect your heart,  _guren vel_ ,” the king extended a hand, hesitantly caressing your cheek. “He is only using you as means to escape this place. He does not love you.”

With his last words, you both looked at Fili, who seemed to be shocked by the accusation.

“I would never do that to Y/N!” he growled.

“Enough, Fili! Your plan has failed,” Thorin had spoken up. “There is no use.”

You gasped at his words, tears making their way to your eyes, “Fili…”

“I swear to you on my swords, Y/N. They all lie. My uncle would never accept us, just as your father has rejected our love now. They do not believe my words as true, but they do not know my heart.”

“How could he love you? He has only been here but a fortnight,” your father pointed out, adding another support to his argument.

“I do not know how, but what I say is the truth. I love you, Y/N. I would not braid your hair otherwise.”

“You braided her hair? Do you realize what you have done, Fili?” his uncle shouted from his cell. “Do you?”

“I do not care! She is my One, and I–”

“Enough of this foolishness!” your father had had enough, turning towards the stairs. “Come, Y/N.”

“But, _Ada_ –”

“No! We shall discuss this later, and I will determine your punishment.”

In this state, you knew there was no use in arguing. He would sooner drag you away from the dungeons than let you have your way, so you followed but not without sending Fili one last look.

He appeared defeated, and his eyes were filled with a sorrow that wrapped around your heart, suffocating it.

You could bear the sight no longer, but you would not have to.

For, the next day, he was gone.


	2. In Reality and In Slumber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ada = Sindarin for “father” or “daddy”  
> Muindor = Sindarin for “brother”   
> guren vel = Sindarin for “my sweetheart”  
> Amrâlimê = Khuzdul for “love-of-me”  
> khebabmudtu = Khuzdul for “heart-forge” or “the forge where my heart is made”  
> Mahal = Khuzdul for “maker”

It had been many moons since you last saw your dwarf, and with each passing day, your heart grew heavier. 

Would he ever return to you?

The Battle of the Five Armies had come and passed, and when your father’s return was announced, you had rushed out of the palace to meet him, first kissing and hugging him for being alive and then asking if Fili was too.

Your question only brought a scowl to his face, and he disregarded you after that, ignoring you and putting you through many silent meals. It was awkward to be in his presence, now. His eyes would bore on your neck, where Fili’s bead hung from a necklace you had made. 

It was no longer in your hair because your father had its braid undone.

That had been your punishment, but you would not let go of the only thing you had left of your One. Over your heart, it stayed.

“Y/N.”

Your name came out in a breath when you entered the throne room to see your  _Ada_  and  _Muindor_. 

“Yes,  _Ada_?”

“I beg of you,  _guren vel_ , forget that dwarf. It is obvious he does not return your feelings.”

“ _Ada_  is right, Y/N. He only used you to escape.”

Your face fell at their statements, “That is not true, and the both of you know it!”

Instead of getting angry with you, the king’s face turned to sorrow, “My  _Iell_ , is my love not enough? Must you be with another?”

” _Ada_ …“ you approached him, kneeling before him and placing your head in his lap like you used to as a child. "I appreciate all you do, but I love Fili.”

You looked up at him, his hand falling from the strands of your hair he had been stroking, “Don’t you understand,  _Ada_? You were in love once.”

His fingers resumed their play with your locks, “But that was different, Y/N. She returned my affections, and she was…”

“An elf, but you would have loved her even if she was an orc.”

Your father’s eyes widened at what you had said because he knew it to be true. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, “I only wish to protect you. I never wanted any harm to befall you, but I fear it is time you know the truth.”

And the next words he said sent your world crumbling down upon you, suffocating you in the wreckage.

“The dwarf who holds your heart breathes no more.”

You fell back, no longer resting against your father’s knees. 

It couldn’t be true…

You turned to your brother, “ _Muindor_.  _Muindor_ , tell me it is not true!”

Legolas simply bowed his head, confirming your worst nightmare.

Tears fell down your cheeks in waterfalls.

“ _Guren vel_ …” your father reached for you, only to stop himself when you jumped to your feet.

You looked from your brother to your king before turning around and running from the room. 

* * *

“Y/N.”

“Y/N! Wake up!”

The voice hissed again, and you slowly opened your eyes to the darkness of your bed chamber. It took you some time to focus on the figure in front of you, considering the skin around your orbs were raw from crying.

“ _Amrâlimê_ …”

You felt a cold hand upon your cheek, and when you could finally make out its owner, more tears came.

“Do not shed tears.”

You felt the side of the bed lapse underneath his weight while his thumb brushed away your joy at his presence.

“They said you were dead…”

He gave you a small smile, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, where the collar of his shirt separated to reveal his skin. There, you could feel his heart beat like a drum, powerful and very much alive.

“I must be dreaming.”

“We both are,” he responded, bringing you closer to him and wrapping you up in his arms. “I did not think I would live to see you,  _ _khebabmudtu__ , yet here I am, holding you.”

You grinned at his words, deciding that if this was just an apparition before you, you would enjoy every moment.

“Where is my braid?”

His words held confusion but, above all, pain. 

“My father forced me to undo it, but I have kept your bead.”

You separated from him just enough to lift the necklace from your neck, placing it in his outstretched palm. Your gaze lifted to his green eyes, “Please braid it again.”

He chuckled lowly, taking a strand of your hair in his hands and beginning his work. He was faster this time, but the finished product was even more extravagant. 

Once he placed the silver bound, he brought his hand up to your face. He brought you close again, but this time, you could feel his warm breath on your skin, and you shuddered as all your hidden desires surfaced to the forefront of your mind.

“May I kiss you?”

He searched your eyes for your answer while you summoned the ability to speak.

“Yes.”

And that was all he needed to lean in and finally bring the two of you together. 

His lips were soft, like rose petals, and they tasted just as sweet. The kiss was gentle at first, just a tentative brush, but, somehow, you knew that he was nowhere near done; his feathery touch and the arm around your waist in addition to his affectionate gesture promised as much.

As if to confirm your thoughts and satisfy your imagination, he tilted his head a bit more, licking your lips with his tongue in a silent request, and when you opened your mouth to give him what he wished, he did not hesitate in taking it,  _fully_.

The passion flared as he pushed his body onto yours, chest to chest, hips to hips. You fell back, but he held the kiss as he entangled his legs with yours. Your arms slipped from his shoulders, so you could bring your fingers to his jaw, encouraging every movement he made with his mouth.

He broke the kiss, panting, and while you both gained a bit of your composure, his gaze took you in. 

 _Mahal_ , you were beyond this world. Your hair was a halo around your head, and your eyes were staring back at him in a loving daze. Your cheeks were the color of cherry blossoms and your mouth wore evidence of the fire that had been ignited between the two of you. 

“Fili?”

“Yes,  _Amrâlimê_?”

Your face turned darker at what you were about to voice, but you could not help it. You had thoroughly enjoyed the feelings his kiss had left within you, and it was addictive.

“Why did you stop?”

His eyes widened at your inquiry but softened with his snort, “You want more?”

You bit your bottom lip, unknowingly sending him into a fit of lust, and nodded your head.

It was not long before you were connected again, and this time, there was no gentleness in the way his mouth moved against yours. At first, it was hard for you to keep up, but within mere moments, you were meeting his fever with your own heat.

“ _Mahal_ , Y/N,” his lips left yours, eliciting a whimper from you, and went to your pulse, pressing bruising kiss down the length of your neck.

“Fili…” his name came out in a gasp as you weaved your hands into his hair. You arched your back, lifting your pelvis to meet his, and what you felt there made you crave more.

He groaned against you, pushing his clothed length down to increase the friction.

“Only you make me feel this way,  _Amrâlimê_ ,” his lips ghosted against your ear, bringing a shiver through you. “The only one. My One.”

His words made your soul swell with love, and, in that moment, you wished to never wake up from this pleasant world where it was just the two of you. 

“I love you, Fili.”

He stopped his ministrations, raising his head to look at you, “Y/N…you have no idea how happy that makes me…”

You gave him a small chuckle, raising your hands to cup his face, “Can you show me, Fili?”

Again, you had rendered him almost speechless, but after a minute, he thought of his words and leaned forward to whisper them against your lips, “As you wish.”

He brought you into another kiss, one similar to his second one, but he was one-hundred-percent dominant as his fingers rubbed against your thighs, meaning to bunch up the fabric of your nightgown but also doing things to you that left you aching.

He did not realize the impact of his touch until you let out a low moan, and the sound of your pleasure sped up his movements. 

You separated, letting him lift the smooth fabric from your form and his thirsted gaze sip from your beauty. He had never seen such a sight, and he never thought he would. You were his, though, to love and to cherish. He could not believe it.

Under him, a blush blossomed. You were so wary of his thoughts, and began to fear the worst when his staring continued.

“F-Fili?”

Your hesitant call brought him back, and he gave you an assuring smile before removing himself from the bed to dispose of the clothing that still kept the two of you apart.

Now, it was your turn to take in the sight of him, hard, lean, and pulsing with a carnal need. He reminded you of a flawless statue, like the ones you had seen pictures of in books, and his scars and hair only added to his image. 

He smirked at your appreciation, returning to your warmth and holding it against him. As if in thanks, he peppered kisses from your shoulder down, and when he kissed the tip of your breast, you bit your lip at the tingly sensation that sparked through you.

It only got worse when he took the whole of your pink bud between his lips.

Your hum only seemed to encourage him as he licked and sucked and, to keep your other breast from being neglected, he brought his hand up to play with it.

“Oh,  _Fili_ …”

He smirked against your chest before releasing you and bringing his mouth to where his hand once occupied.

His free limb snaked down between the two of you, his finger dipping down into a place that had never been touched by another person before.

A cry escaped your lips, and his movement quickened. He lifted his head from your skin to watch your face, enjoying the pure bliss that was evident upon it.

“You are too stunning,  _ _khebabmudtu__.”

You had no words to give, so you brought your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet your wanton lips.

As your tongues danced, the pressure in your lower half began to build, taking you higher and higher with each of his strokes. 

You moaned his name, breaking your kiss, “Please…”

“Are you sure, Y/N? I can bring you the release you seek without…”

“I want you inside me,  _Amrâlimê_.”

Whether it was the weight of your wish or the significance of the name you called him, you did not know, but his fingers left you. His arms went around your legs, bringing the backs of your knees to his waist.

Getting the hint and his haste, you wrapped your lower limbs around him and watched with heavy breaths as he stroked himself once, twice, before guiding himself into you.

When you felt him inside you, you let out a sigh. Then, the pain was over, and while it was still a bit uncomfortable, it was like you had been missing a part of you all your life; now, with him inside you, you were finally complete. Finally one.

He seemed to feel the same, groaning and remaining still to bask in the feeling of you. He lowered himself over your body to give you a kiss before beginning to move his hips.

His eyes never left your face as he started off slow and continued to pick up the pace thrust by thrust. The sound of your mingling gasps and meeting skin filled the air as he thoroughly made love to you. 

You climbed and climbed with him, and as you both got closer, the movements became faster, more eager. He leaned over you, kissing you and moaning into your mouth as you both came over the peak.  

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered in the aftermath, still buried to the hilt inside of you. He pulled himself out, both of you sated but at the same time, missing the connection. 

“I love you, too, Fili,” you answered, snuggling into his chest as he brought the blanket over the two of you. 

“I promise I will take you away from here, and we will finally be wed.”

He kissed your temple and doubt began to swirl in the pit of your stomach.  
You quickly looked up at your lover, finding him struggling to keep his eyes open, “You will be here when I wake?”

“Of course. Is there a reason I should not be?”

You remembered your suspicions from earlier. He was supposed to be dead, and, therefore, this all might be a dream. You had experienced many passion-filled nights with him while asleep in your bed. Who was to say this was no different from any of them?

“What if this is all in my mind? What if this is not reality?”

He woke a bit at your questions but gave you a smile that suggested he did not find them bothersome.

“ _Amrâlimê_ , in reality and in your slumber, I would never leave and not return to you.”

He pecked your forehead before pulling you closer to him. Within moments, his breathing became steady, but you did not wish to join him in the world of the unconscious. 

Instead, you watched him until you could fight sleep no more.


	3. No Inkling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiril vuin = Sindarin for “my beloved lady”   
> Hîr vuin = Sindarin for “my beloved lord”  
> guren vel = Sindarin for “my sweetheart”   
> Naneth = Sindarin for “mother”   
> Hervess = Sindarin for “wife”   
> Ada = Sindarin for “father” or “daddy”  
> Amrâlimê = Khuzdul for “love-of-me”  
> Mahal = Khuzdul for “maker”  
> Khebabmudtu = Khuzdul for “heart-forge” or “the forge where my heart is made”

You woke the next morning shivering, and when you had registered that there wasn’t a body engulfing your own, you immediately sat up, your blanket falling from your naked form. 

Tears formed, threatening to spill over the rim of your eyes as you regarded your empty room. A sob was at your lips when another tremble wracked your body, your hair lifting from your shoulders as the breeze raced up your spine, sending bumps through your skin. 

Your gaze went to the open window, and you wrapped yourself up in your blanket, holding it together at your chest as you slipped from your bed and walked towards it. The white drapes welcomed you in a hug, clinging to your body as you peered over the sill to the land below.

Another wind entered your room, caressing your face and causing your H/C locks to dance. It was during their tango with the air that you felt the ridges of metal against your cheek, and you raised your hand to catch the foreignness, only to gape at it when you realized what it was.

Fili’s bead.

A soft knock on your chamber door brought you from your momentary happiness, and you turned towards the front of the room.

“Come in.”

The door opened a crack, a hesitation before it opened fully to reveal your chamber maid, Sinnafain. 

“ _Hiril vuin_?”

“It is fine, Sinnafin,” you urged her to come in, despite the fact you were disrobed; she had seen you bare many a times, since she often ran your bath for you. 

“ _Hîr vuin_  wishes to speak with you,” she stated as she entered the space, closing the door softly behind her. 

You felt your spirits drop as a frown settled on your pink lips. “I see. What for?”

She opened your wardrobe, her delicate hands on the handles of it as she scanned its contents, “The reason was not made known to me. All he asks is that I see to it that you are properly dressed.”

You approached the younger elf as she pulled a gown into her arms, its midnight fabric touching the floor. 

“Do you wish to have a bath,  _Hiril vuin_?” she questioned, her forest eyes resting on your own E/C orbs. 

A natural rouge dusted your cheeks as you recalled the evening before and quickly nodded at her suggestion. It would probably be for the best.

She stretched the dress across the small settee in the corner of your room before moving to your wardrobe once again, this time, removing your cream robe from it. She held it open for you, and you welcomed its warmth, tying the sash around your front after tightly wrapping yourself in it. 

She moved to your bed, after taking the fabric you had been wrapped in from you, and stripped it of the layers of sheets and blankets, ignoring the obvious evidence of your lovemaking. 

A part of you wanted her to ask about it, but, knowing the strict rules the servants of this castle had to abide by, she would keep her mouth shut and her curiosity hidden. You just hoped she would not feel the need to tell a fellow servant; gossip spread like wildfire in these halls, and you were not quite ready to face your father about Fili’s visit. 

Or to confront him about lying to you.

“Come,  _Hiril vuin_ ,” Sinnafin said evenly as she walked to your door, your dirty bed covers folded in a neat pile in her arms. 

You followed her down the corridor, turning once before you found yourself in front of the baths. 

Sinnafin began to adjust the cloth in her arms, trying to free a hand to open the door, but you beat her to opening it. She looked at you gratefully but apologized for her inability to hold it open for you as you allowed her to walk in front of you.

Once in the large room, Sinnafin placed the pyramid of bed clothes on the floor and turned to you. “The usual bath,  _Hiril vuin_?”

You almost agreed to it, but for some reason, you thought you would try something different. 

“No.” You gave her a smile. “I wish to try something new.”

Sinnafin considered your request for a moment before her lips curved in a timid grin. “How about a lilac bath, then?”

“Sounds lovely.”

* * *

It was almost noon when you found yourself in front of your father’s throne, clad in an evening blue dress and smelling of spring. 

Thranduil sat high in his chair, his winter eyes regarding you without a single hint as to what he was thinking or feeling at the moment, and the glow you had been giving off since morning dulled slightly. 

“You wished to speak to me, Ada?” you asked, tired of the unnerving silence he seemed determined to maintain.

He exhaled, blinking slowly. “Yes. I was curious about your well-being, considering the news I had given you.”

You did not respond to him, your face falling into an expression that mirrored his own, stoic and untelling. 

He swallowed, his dark brows slanting to create worry lines on his forehead. “When you left yesterday…”He got to his feet, making his way towards you and only stopping when he was right before you. “I’ve done a terrible thing,  _guren vel_ …”

For once, your father revealed vulnerability; his broken heart was on his sleeve, and the weight of its presence brought you forward and into his arms. One of his hands found the back of your head, holding you close to his chest as his arm wrapped around your lower back. 

“I apologize for telling you a falsehood, and I only realized the extent of your love for that dwarf when it was too late to take back my words.” He let out a shuddered breath, angling his head to press a kiss to your crown. “I saw myself in your expression yesterday, and it was then I understood what I had done…Do you know what happened to the man that told me of your  _Naneth_ ’s death?”

You shook your head against his shoulder.

“He was banished…along with his family to Rivendell. I regret my actions to this day, but I could not look at the man who told me that my  _Hervess_  was killed.” He pulled back from you, his gaze finding yours. “And when I told you of that dwarf’s death, your reaction haunted me. Did you banish me in that moment?” He cupped your cheek, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against your own. “ _Guren vel_ …I thought I had lost you forever…”

The corners of your mouth twitched as a smile stretched across your face. You brought your hand to cover the one that rested on your skin. “You will never lose me,  _Ada_.”

“Not even to that dwarf?”

The question seemed oddly childish for your father, and you stepped back from his embrace, arching a H/C brow as you suppressed a laugh. “What?”

“If I allow you to…” he paused, his pale orbs going to the high ceiling, as if saying the words disgusted the very fibers of his being, “ _be_  with that dwarf…would you still come to see me, here?”

“Of course,  _Ada_ ,” you whispered, your grin widening. His behavior was adorable, to say the least, and it let you know that you were truly loved. “I would miss you too much to stay away…”

The king relaxed in your embrace, a breath leaving his thin lips. “As long as you keep that promise to me, I will do everything in my power to secure your happiness for you.”

At the end of his vow, he pushed you away gently, taking your smaller hands in his, and with a suggestion of lament in his sky eyes, his focus fell over your shoulder, becoming locked on the entrance to the throne room.

You turned, a question on your lips, but it immediately evaporated as you took in the image before you. There, closing the double doors behind him, was a smirking Fili, his strands of gold shimmering in the bits of light that filtered into the space. 

All that lay between the two of you was air…

…and his livid uncle.

The woman you were yesterday would have curled back into her father’s arms in an attempt to escape the cracks of lightening the Dwarven king was sending her way, but you found yourself ignoring them as you looked to Thranduil, beaming.

“I love you,  _Ada_ ,” you said, wrapping an arm around his neck as you pulled his head down to bestow a kiss upon it. “Thank you.”

And with that, you lifted your skirts from the ground and hastened over to Fili, who was ready to receive you with his upper limbs spread open. Once you made contact with his form, he lifted you up slightly as he squeezed you to his hard, yet warm, body. 

You giggled at his antics, placing your palms on his shoulders as he lowered you to the ground.

“I told you that I would not leave you,  _Amrâlimê_ ,” he murmured against your cheek before pressing his lips to it. 

It was only in the aftermath of your reunion that you noticed the glaring contest your father and Thorin were engaged in.

“Come.”

The tug on your arm was barely noticeable, but it was enough to cause you to turn and realize that Fili wished to leave the two rulers to themselves.

It was clear that your father had some convincing to do, and something told you from the tired smile your golden prince gave you that he had done his share of persuading. 

You trusted your father would keep his word, though, because you had every intention of keeping your own.

* * *

**_A Few Months Later…_ **

Fili kicked the door to his chamber, causing both halves of it to hit the stone wall with a thud, but neither of you were concerned with the condition of the wood.

The moment your back hit the foot of the bed, Fili’s lips were on yours, his tongue already invading your mouth to stroke your own. His hands were pulling at the strings on the bodice of your snow-colored dress, and your fingers were in his fair mane, tugging lightly at his locks.

He groaned into your mouth, cupping one of your exposed breasts, the tips of his thumb and forefinger already teasing the pert nipple between them. 

“Fili…” you gasped against his lips.

He hummed before kissing you again, tilting his head to the side and adding more pressure to your hardened peak.

“Fili,” you breathed, your palm finding his chest to push him away slightly.  
His motions came to a halt as his hooded, olive eyes, find yours. “What?”

“The door…” 

A grin lifted the edges of your husband’s mustache. “I nearly forgot…”

“Yes,” your digits found his cheek, a giggle escaping you, “you did.”

“But I do not know if I can bring myself to part from you…” He wiggled his brows, his gaze falling from your face to the separated lace that now exposed your heaving chest.

“Fili…” you warned only to squeal as he lifted you off the floor, carrying you pressed to his torso as he walked over to the chamber door. Using his left leg, he assured privacy, and after he heard the firm click of the lock, he turned to you.

“Where were we?”

“I  _believe_ ,” you smiled innocently, “you were about to finish undressing me.”  
His green orbs darkened at your suggestion as he wet his lips. “Well, best not keep my wife waiting.”

He placed you on the ground, his hands making quick work of pushing the thick fabric and lace that concealed your form to the floor. When your dress was in a heap at your feet, his hungry stare took in every inch of bare skin that was in his line of sight.

You blushed under his devoted attention, but you were also growing impatient.

“ _Amrâlimê_ ,” you whispered, moving your body so it was flush against his. Your began to palm him through his tan trousers, and the groan he emitted against the shell of your ear caused a shiver to go up the middle of your back and stem to the tips of your fingers.

“ _Mahal_ , Y/N,” he exhaled, his eyes closing for a moment before he brought his head down to yours.

He was cupping the side of your face as his lips slanted against your own, and you could feel him hardening with each light squeeze you gave him. The kisses continued, leaving your mouth for your jaw followed by your neck, and when you felt him shudder against your skin, pausing in his trail, you knew he was ready for your mouth.

With just a bit of protest from your dwarf, you lowered yourself to your knees, your fingers already bringing down the cloth that covered his lower limbs to his ankles. You gave him a moment to step out of the clothing, your eyes trained on his own, lust-blown ones.

Then, your attention was at his swollen cock head, your dominant hand wrapping itself around the length of him before you pecked its tip.

A sigh left your husband’s lips as you gave him an experimental lick, your digits working the base of him. 

You looked up at him, through your lashes, as you engulfed as much of him as you could, almost gagging on the sheer size of him.

“Just like that, _Khebabmudtu_ ,” he rasped, his fingers finding the strands of your hair as you swirled your tongue about him. He let out a long sound of pleasure when you hollowed your cheeks and increased your pace on him.

You could feel him getting closer and closer to his end, his manhood pulsing between your lips, and when he came inside of you, you both broke eye-contact. He threw his head back, his blissful groan filling the large chamber, and your eyelids fell closed as you swallowed his seed. 

You brought your mouth from his length, licking remnants of his climax from the skin and watching as he calmed himself down, his ragged breaths returning to a normal rhythm.

“It’s your turn, Y/N,” he said, bringing you up to your full height. 

Once face-to-face with him, you kissed him, letting him taste himself as your tongue entered his cavity. While you were consumed by the ferocity of the kiss, Fili’s hand strayed from your elbow to the apex of your thighs, his calloused skin nearly making you jump when it brushed your clit.

“Fili…” His name broke your lip-lock as you arched against him, the pressure mounting in your lower half making you lean on him for support. 

“That’s it, Y/N…” His words were hot against your ear before he bent his head slightly, caressing your neck with his swollen lips. 

Your hands found his shoulders as he walked you back to the bed. When your knees hit the footboard, you let yourself curve over the end of the mattress, nearly whimpering when you felt his digits be replaced by his leg.

The contact was brief, but Fili would give you a sensation even more toe-curling than the pressure of his fingers. You watched as he lowered himself before you, nearly crying out when you felt his tongue at your opening. 

The licks he started off with were teasing, fleeting, but the feather-like touch and warmth originating from it made your lips separate in a silent plea, your body curving away from the smooth comforter.

“Fili!” you exclaimed, your palms finding his crown as he prodded at your opening, his middle and forefingers separating your nether lips as the thumb from his other hand made lazy circles on your bud. 

“You’re so wet for me,  _Amrâlimê_ ,” he uttered before replacing his thumb with his mouth, sucking on your engorged clit. 

A moan ripped from your throat; the peak of the pleasure he was providing was within moments, and it came crashing down on you as he inserted two fingers, thrusting them in and out a few times before curling them to stroke a spot in you that left you reeling.

Fili lapped at the aftermath of your orgasm before getting to his feet. You regarded him in your satisfied haze as he removed his white shirt and threw it behind him before bending over you. 

You both gasped at the feeling of his, now hard, member against your slick hole, and when you felt him enter you, you wrapped your arms about his neck, your nails digging into the planes of his muscular back.

“ _Y/N_ …” he hissed from the slight pricks of pain, but there was something euphoric about his tone as he bottomed-out, his manhood stretching your walls in delicious ways.

Almost in immediate reaction, you bucked against him, and his eyes flashed dangerously, darkening as they bore into your own. He removed himself completely from you, save his tip, and the delicious noise you make when he slams back into you causes him to set a fast, hard rhythm. He wanted to hear it again…and again.

You would give your husband as he wished, not holding back any vocalization of the sheer ecstasy he was bringing to you. The only other sounds besides your own were the short, animalistic grunts that came deep from Fili’s chest as he thrust into you. 

Then, he completely leaves you—his warmth, his cock are all stripped from you, and you look up at him in confusion.

“Turn around.” He’s breathless as he asks you of this, his hand stroking himself as if he were trying to cope with the fact he wasn’t inside you.

Understanding he only meant to switch positions, you flipped yourself over, raising your bottom into the air.

With his only warning being a sweaty hand on your hip, he penetrated you, his front meeting your back as he started his pace again. 

He embraced you from behind, his hips smacking into your round bottom with a force that caused the bed to creak and shake. One of his arms slides lower, and you feel his rough touch on your clit again, causing your mouth to form an ellipse. 

“Oh,  _Fili_.”

Your mewl spurs him on, his lips finding your back while he continued to apply pressure to your bud. His opposite palm found your left breast, and he squeezed the mound of flesh as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his climax.

You were the first to fall over the hill, the pure gratification crashing down on you in tidal waves, shaking you to the very place the two of you were connect. Your shudders and cry of his name expedited his own release, and a few slacking thrusts later, he was filling you with his cum.

“Y/N…” his voice cracks as he rode out the rest of his orgasm. “I love you so much, my One. You have no inkling towards the extent.”

Feeling your heart swell with his impassioned words, you touch his cheek over your shoulder, turning your head to kiss him.

“I love you, too, my husband. My One.”


End file.
